


Make It Last

by ieatboyss



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A girl has no beta, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben Solo deserves the world and I'm going to give it to him, F/M, Fluff and Smut, I will add tags as I go because right now I have no idea where this is going, M/M, Sex, Soft Ben Solo, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27255868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ieatboyss/pseuds/ieatboyss
Summary: A collection of one shots that take place after Save Me A Spark
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Ben Solo/Reader, Kylo Ren/Reader, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 16
Kudos: 41





	1. Inconceivable

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so I told myself I wasn't going to do this because of my other WIP's but it's Halloween in a few days. I keep thinking about how SMAS's Ben would handle his first Halloween and now we have this.
> 
> The one shots will take place during the Epilogue and after it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween is a little different this year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  **Reminder:**   
>    
> 

It's Ben's first Halloween, and you were excited...at first.

His consistent need to question everything shouldn't annoy you because he's still acclimating, but it does, so much.

It would be fine if he just asked a question once like, "What's Halloween?" but he doesn't.

Ben Solo is incapable of asking one question and leaving it at that.

"I don't understand what the point of the holiday is."

"Ask Siri," you respond, while stepping into the shower.

You made the mistake of showing Ben how to use Siri. After the third day you thought for sure you'd be receiving her letter of resignation in the mail. That or Apple would start charging you hourly and billing you for the time they spend answering his questions alone.

"Siri, what is Halloween?"

"Halloween or Hallowe'en, also known as Allhalloween, All Hallow's Eve, or All Saints' Eve is a celebration observed in many countries on the 31st of October, the eve of the Western Christian feast of All Hallows Day," she responds loudly, due to how high he constantly has his phone's volume. 

"Would you like me to keep reading?"

"Yes, please." Ben pauses brushing his teeth and responds politely, doing his best not to drool toothpaste.

"It begins the observance of Allhallowtide, the time in the liturgical year dedicated to remembering the dead, including saints (hallows), martyrs, and all the faithful departed."

He's mentally making a list of questions he's going to ask you. You know this because his brow furrows and he stares at the sink like it just told him he's a Palpatine.

Closing the shower curtain, you step under the water. 

When you hear him spit out the toothpaste, you know he's about to join you in your extremely small shower, and begin a game of 20 questions that lasts until you either waterboard him or drop to your knees to distract him.

His response to your question will determine which route you take.

"What don't you understand?" you sigh, wiping the water out of your eyes.

He slides open the curtain and steps into the shower the moment you open your eyes. You'll never get tired of looking at him, even if the confused look you once thought was cute makes you want to scream.

"What makes you think I don't understand something?" his brow furrows deeper.

You reach up and smooth the lines in between his eyebrows.

"Because your frown intensifies. It's not your usual 'I want to strike fear in the hearts of the elderly and small children' frown, it's a different kind of frown."

He scoffs and reaches behind you for the soap.

"Don't you dare—"

A glob of soap the size of a soda can is roughly plopped onto the top of your head.

"Why do you insist on using an entire bottle of shampoo whenever I'm in here with you? Yes, my hair is growing back but that doesn't mean I need more soap!" you nearly yell.

He ignores you and spreads it throughout the top of your head.

"I don't understand why we need to dress up and carve vegetables because of Samhain. Do you always celebrate the holiday? Are you Pagan? You're supposed to celebrate the dead correct? Obi-Wan is the only person you've lost. Do you celebrate him on that day? Do you still consider him 'dead' after you spoke with him? He isn't really gone right? Do—"

"BEN!" you snap, startling him.

The walls of the shower make your voice louder than you intended. You clear your throat and start rinsing out the copious amount of shampoo in your hair.

"One question at a time. People dress up and carve pumpkins because it's fun. Everyone celebrates differently but a majority of people don't celebrate for the same reasons they did centuries ago. No I am not Pagan, but you don't need to be to celebrate Halloween. This will be my second Halloween without Obi-Wan and no, I didn't celebrate him last year. I sat at the bookstore and handed out candy which is what we are going to do before we go to Poe's party. Do I consider Obi-Wan gone after Lothal? Yes, and No. Yes, because he's not physically here anymore and I can't ask him for advice when I need it. No, because he flat out told me he's still creeping around. Did I answer all of your questions? Well, all of your questions at the moment because I'm sure you'll have more for me in five minutes."

Silence.

When you finally have all of the soap out of your hair, you wipe the water out of your eyes, and stare up at him. He looks like a kicked puppy.

His arms are crossed and he's staring at the shower wall, avoiding your eyes. You wrap your arms around him and lean into him. Your head barely meets his chest which has a thin layer of water on it from standing in the only dry part of the shower.

He stays tense and rigid but only momentarily before wrapping his arms around you.

"You're being mean again," he mumbles.

You do your best not to laugh by keeping your face pressed against his chest.

"I'm not trying to be mean, I promise. If Google and Siri can't give you the exact answers you want I don't know why you think I can. Halloween is just something we do for fun. You're overthinking it."

"Hmmpf."

"I don't understand how you can remember a good chunk of your life here, but everything else is either not there or a blur."

He shrugs. "From what I gather my life here was almost as lonely as my life on the Supremacy. I think I retained memories of the important points in my life here but not the rest."

You release him, grab him by his arms and move him under the water. You're not tall enough to pour the remaining amount of shampoo in his hair so you let him do that part. The spoiled brat then leans forward and waits patiently for you to brush your fingers through his hair.

When fighting the gigantic, menacing, villain that was Kylo Ren on Starkiller base, you would have never guessed how much he loves having his hair played with. It's like when you pet a cat once and they continue to rub on you until you pet them again. Then you're stuck petting it until it dies, or you do.

He practically purrs as your fingers massage the shampoo into his thick, black, hair. He places both hands on your hips and slowly slides them up and down, conveniently pausing once his thumbs are resting under your breasts.

You roll your eyes at how horrible he is at being subtle, especially when his cock is already hard and seeking you out. Doing your best not to rub against him, at least until you both actually bathe, you try to reach around him to get the body wash but nearly fall in the process. He tightens his grip on your sides to prevent you from falling.

"Ugh!" you groan in frustration. "We need a bigger shower! Actually, we need a bigger apartment. You are too large for this place."

He snorts, "yeah I am."

You roll your eyes so hard you almost give yourself a headache.

He helps you by reaching around and grabbing the soap for you.

"I like it here. It's ours. It feels like home," he mumbles.

You lather your hands and start washing yourself, much to his dismay, but he follows suit.

"We can make a bigger apartment feel like home. I—"

Cutting you off, he places his hands on your sides again and lifts you up. Your legs instantly wrap around him as he holds you against the shower wall.

He brushes your wet hair out of your face and leans close to you until his lips are a breath away from yours.

"Home isn't a place, it's a person," he says, before pressing his lips against yours.

The moment your lips meet he sighs and licks your bottom lip, silently asking you to grant him access. A second later his tongue is in your mouth, exploring it, memorizing it.

Since waking up at home, his kisses have a hint of desperation to them. He touches you like it's the last chance he'll get, like he needs to make it count.

Not that you're complaining.

Holding you up with one hand on your ass, he slides his other hand from your hip all the way up to your neck where his hand rests, cradling your head, and cording his fingertips through the hair at the base of your skull.

He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against yours, slowly sliding his erection against your slit, testing to see if you're already ready for him, which you are.

You always are. 

Running your fingers through his hair, you grab a handful, and pull his head back. He closes his eyes and shivers when you kiss him from shoulder to jawline. Lifting you up, he positions himself at your entrance and lowers you on to him. Your breath hitches and you arch your back.

He closes his eyes and moans like a starving man being fed for the first time in days.

"You're always so wet for me sweetheart," he grunts, thrusting into you at a punishing pace. "No matter how many times I fuck you, you're still so tight."

The more sex you have, the more confidence he has. As his confidence grows, so does his affinity for talking dirty.

"Fuck," you breathe, pulling his face down to yours by his hair. With both hands hooked under your thighs, he holds you still and pistons in and out of you, kissing you urgently until he feels you start to quiver around him. Using the wall as leverage, he brings one of his hands in between you, and starts to rub circles over your clit with the pad of his thumb, knowing it will quickly push you over the edge.

Knowing your body as well as he does brings a smile to his face but it falters when your orgasm ripples through you. The way your pussy spasms around him has him following close behind you. His knees nearly buckle as he fucks you through your orgasm and his own.

Panting, he presses his forehead against yours, kisses it softly, and lowers your feet to the ground.

"Am I ever going to get to shower without getting pounded into the wall?"

"Are you complaining?"

"Nope, just wondering."

More often than not, sex in bed is affectionate and drawn out. You both take your time, learning each other's bodies as if they were your own.

However, throughout the day, more often than not, you find yourself against a surface getting pounded into quickly and urgently. You've noticed since he's been able to do things on his own and has the ability to fuck you wherever he wants, he does. It's almost as if he's reminding himself that you are in fact with him and willing to let him have your body whenever he needs reassurance.

You slide into bed and crawl under the covers once the two of you dry off. He quickly pulls you against his chest and drapes his arm across your waist when you turn to lay on your  side. You can practically hear the gears in his head turning and you know another question or complaint is about to come out of his mouth. You take a deep breath, and wait.

"I understand how Halloween came to be, but do we—"

"If you're about to whine about costumes and the party I swear to god I will buy the skimpiest costume I can find and go to the party without you."

You don't need to turn around to know his jaw is tense with irritation. He huffs and pulls you closer to him, but says nothing else on the matter. Your eyes feel heavy and right as you  drift off to sleep you hear him mumble against your hair.

"Goodnight sweetheart."

* * *

You can't go shopping like most couples do because you aren't like most couples. Most couples don't consist of one person from an alternate universe, which is why shopping is an activity that usually lasts all day.

Depending on your mood, shopping can either be exhausting or adorable. Ben has to stop and look at  _ everything _ and then ask questions about whatever it is that's caught his attention.

* * *

"What candy should we get?" you ask, as he stares at the giant wall of Halloween candy in front of you.

One thing you discovered early on is that Ben Solo is not a fan of sweets.

The first time you went to the store without him you bought several multi-packs of candy, scattered them on the kitchen table, and made him try one of each. His face was scrunched up as if he was in pain throughout the majority of the taste testing.

"This is for the children that will be aimlessly wandering the streets in costume, begging for food and charity, correct?"

Your eyes leave the candy as you turn your head to look at him.

"Out of everything you've read, and everything I've told you,  _ that's  _ the conclusion you came to?"

"Am I wrong? Children will be dressed up and asking for food."

"I mean in a way you're right...but... just pick out some candy!" you huff, frustrated because he's technically right.

He picks up ten different bags and scans their contents. Even though the logos of each candy are printed on the outside of the bag, he shakes them to ensure he sees exactly what's inside.

When he starts to sift through the bags, you realize he's looking for something specific.

"What are you looking for?" you ask, curiously.

"There was one candy that wasn't as bad as the others. I was trying to find it but the packaging is different because of the holiday."

You knew he wouldn't know the name of it which meant a familiar game of "Ask Ben 87 questions until you figure out what he's thinking about."

"Was it chocolate or something else? I need more to go on."

"Chocolate."

"Okay, do you remember what was in it? Was it just plain chocolate?"

"It had some sort of filling."

You're getting warmer.

"What shape was it in?"

"Circular with ridges on the side. There was a small paper you had to remove prior to eating it."

"Reese's? The peanut butter cups?"

"The Reese's wasn't as bad as the others."

Success.

You point towards the Costco sized bag of Reeses above your head, out of reach. He easily reaches up and grabs four bags and tosses them into the cart. You then point to another package of Reeses, this time the full size packages. He raises an eyebrow questionably but doesn't ask as he grabs a handful of those as well.

"This seems like an excessive amount of candy."

"I give the little ones to everyone, but the kids with the really cool costumes get the big ones."

"Can I decide who has a cool costume?"

You start to push the cart down the aisle but he catches up in two short steps and gently pushes you aside to take over.

"Of course you can."

He follows you to the produce section where the large pallets of pumpkins are. You stand on the edge of the pallet and start looking for two decent looking ones. Waiting until the last minute doesn't leave too many options but it's not like Ben knows that.

When you pick up a pumpkin and turn it in your hand to check for scuffs and damage, he picks one up and does the same, even though he doesn't know what he's looking for.

"What are you doing?"

"You want to make sure it's round and in good shape. Sometimes they'll be dented and shaped funny. If they're an odd shape they can be hard to carve."

You find yours and place it in the cart and watch as Ben's eyes land on the biggest fucking pumpkin you've ever seen in your life. He looks at you, about to ask if that one is okay, so you nod. He has no idea what carving entails or how long it's going to take to gut the pumpkin that is easily the size of a golden retriever.

After picking up the pumpkin effortlessly, he leans down, and whispers in your ear.

"Can I carve it with my lightsaber?"

"They don't work, we've tried a couple of times now."

"But if I try again and it works, is carving the pumpkin with a lightsaber acceptable?" he continues to whisper, as if everyone in the grocery store knows what a lightsaber is.

"If it makes you happy, it's acceptable," you chuckle.

With a smile on his face, he follows you to the checkout line.

* * *

The next item on your to do list - find costumes.

Thankfully the costume store you find is outside of the city and not as well known which means it's not crowded and much easier to navigate.

"Okay, go crazy," you gesture for him to walk further into the store.

"What?"

"Go find a costume."

His eyes dart around the large store as he runs his hand through his hair, almost anxiously. You know what he's worried about and it's adorable.

He's still not comfortable or knowledgeable in a lot of areas. If he chooses something dumb he knows you'll tease him, but he's getting used to it. That's not what's making him anxious.

Not wanting to overwhelm him, the two of you have mainly stayed in your apartment, only venturing out for trips to the store and other small outings. On Halloween you're planning to go to Poe's costume party which means mingling with a bunch of strangers. The fact that Ben's still not too fond of Poe doesn't help.

If the costume he picks is unflattering, other people will laugh and that will be more uncomfortable for him than the small remarks you make in jest when it's just the two of you.

"What are you going to get?" he asks, trying to distract you.

"I don't know yet. Want me to walk around with you?"

He nods.

Trying not to smile, you take his hand in yours and interlace your fingers as you pull him towards the men's section. His eyes scan the walls, hoping to find something familiar. When you pass the superhero section he pauses then glances at you to see if you're going to laugh. When you don't, he goes back to browsing. You give his hand a tug so he'll lean down towards you. Once his face is within reach, you kiss him lightly on the lips.

"I'll be in the other aisle. Come find me once you find a couple of costumes."

"Okay."

He's smiling when you pull away.

As you're walking away you see the "humor" section and you can't help but pause. You're not sure how you manage to keep your composure when you see it.

"I found your costume!" you say loudly, and as enthusiastically as possible.

His eyes light up and for a second you feel horrible for how badly you're about to embarrass him.

"What is it?" he asks, eagerly.

You toss the package to him and wait, knowing what he's going to do next.

How well you know each other in such a short amount of time is a little scary, but only a little. The feeling passes when you remember all you learned when talking to Obi-Wan. Your lives are for more entwined than either one of you realized. It's only natural to know how he'll react in certain situations.

"I don't understand what this is supposed to be." His brow furrows as he turns the costume over to see if there's an explanation on the back.

Thankfully, there isn't.

"Maybe ask Siri?" you innocently suggest.

He nods as if saying "duh why didn't I think of that."

"Siri, who is the man in the pink canoe?"

You snort so hard you give yourself a migraine and have to quickly cough to cover it.

He raises an eyebrow and realizes a second too late that you set a trap and he walked right into it.

Siri starts to explain, loudly, in the middle of the costume store.

"The Little Man in the Canoe (also known as The Love Button), is a slang term for a woman's clitoris—"

Ben's eyes widen at a comedic level and his face turns a violent shade of scarlet all the way up to his ears, and probably higher. He throws the costume at you and nearly drops his phone in an attempt to cover Siri's loud voice as she continues her explanation.

"—so euphemized for its placement between the labia minora resembling a person within a small boat," Sir's muffled voice says from inside Ben's pocket, underneath both of his hands.

He glances around wildly, checking to see if anyone heard him ask about a woman's clitoris.

You bite your lip to an almost painful level, trying not to lose it in the middle of the store. Ben glares daggers at you. If looks could kill you'd be dead. Too bad the flush of his cheeks makes him look a lot less intimidating than he thinks he is.

You skip back over to him, pull him down towards you, and kiss him, knowing he won't stay mad at you.

"Love you," you whisper against his lips.

"I know," he huffs, as you pull away.

Once you're sure the mortification has passed, you give him one more kiss and walk away.

* * *

Ben finds you twenty minutes later with five different costumes in his arms. He averts his eyes when you smile at his selection.

"You ready to try them on?"

"What? I can do that here?" he asks, glancing around the store.

Shopping for clothes and using a fitting room for the first time was a whole adventure on it's own and you're thankful you don't have to go through that again.

"Yes, come on."

You steer him to the fitting room and wait outside while he takes his costumes into one of the rooms. It doesn't escape your notice how eager the fitting room attendant suddenly seems to be. Before Ben approached her she barely glanced up from her phone. Now she's suddenly very interested in earning the Employee of the Month award.

You're eager to see if Ben notices her flirting and how he'll react if he does.

You expect him to step out of the room to show you the costumes like he reluctantly did when you made him try on clothes, but he doesn't.

He walks out nearly half an hour later with the costumes in his arms. You assume he's going to tell you they're all dumb or he feels stupid, but he doesn't.

"Is there anything I can help you with,  _ sir _ ?" The attendant asks, emphasizing the word sir, and leaning further over the counter with her low cut shirt.

"I'm okay, thank you," he replies politely, glancing around until he finds you.

She scoffs when he walks straight towards you without glancing back at her, obviously not used to being ignored. You don't get jealous easily but a small part of you is smiling inside.

He puts the costumes he didn't like back where he found them, and walks back towards you with one in his hands. You can't tell what it is but you can see it's all black, as expected.

"What did you choose?"

"It's a surprise," he smirks.

"Oh really?"

He nods.

"Well, I guess mine is a surprise too."

His smirk falters. "You're not going to show me what you picked out?"

"Nope. Oh! We can make it a new tradition! We don't show each other our costumes until Halloween!" you say, nearly giddy.

"Let's go home. We have pumpkins to carve!"

He wants to argue but the mention of making new traditions with him makes his throat tighten.

You really do feel like home.

* * *

"This is  _ disgusting, _ " Ben groans, nearly gagging.

He's elbow deep inside his pumpkin, seeds and stringy innards cling to his muscular forearms.

"You do this by choice? Annually? Why?" he asks, appalled, flinging a handful of pumpkin entrails into the large bowl you set on the table.

"It's just something you do for Halloween. Once you gut it you can carve something into it. We can see who can carve the best. I suck at this and it's your first time so I feel like that puts us on equal footing."

Ben hears you but he's too busy concentrating on hollowing out the pumpkin to respond.

"Why am I itchy? Were you itchy?"

Having chosen a sensible size pumpkin, yours has been gutted clean, and is sitting on the table, patiently waiting for Ben to finish his. Seeing how long he's taking, you grab the box of brownie mix you bought, and start gathering ingredients.

You're hoping Ben's pumpkin will be ready to carve by the time they're done.

"Why did you let me choose a pumpkin this big if you knew I was going to have this much difficulty preparing it?" he whines, throwing another handful of guts into the bowl.

"You didn't see the look in your eyes. It was like a kid on Christmas morning," you chuckle.

"Christmas is a holiday as well, right?"

A small part of you wants to cry now that you realize you're going to have to do this all over again but with Christmas.

You pretend like you don't hear him and thankfully he's too busy cursing under his breath to pester you for an answer.

Your phone rings a familiar tone, indicating Leia's calling. After quickly answering the call, you put her on speaker, and hold your phone in between you and Ben.

"Hi Leia!"

You nudge Ben.

"Hello mother," he huffs.

"Hi sweetie! What are you two up to? Getting ready for Halloween?"

"Yes! Ben's actually elbow deep in a pumpkin right now," you chuckle.

"Oh good, he remembered to wear gloves! I was worried he might have forgotten he's allergic.'

Your eyes widen slightly.

"I don't know if he told you or not, but it's nothing serious. He'll break out into hives and be a little itchy for a while."

Ben's arm freezes inside the pumpkin and he turns his head to glare at you.

"I was just calling to remind him, in case it's something he forgot. He's always been such a grump when it comes to the holidays. I figured you'd be able to talk him into being festive so I thought I'd check in to make sure he remembered. I'll let you two get back to it. Have a good night!"

Leia hangs up and you slowly set your phone down on the table. Ben pulls his arm out of the pumpkin and sits back in the kitchen chair, narrowing his eyes at you.

"I _told_ _you_ I was itchy," he says through gritted teeth.

* * *

On the evening of Halloween, you take your pumpkins and the copious amounts of candy you purchased, to the bookstore, along with some spiderwebs and orange lights you bought last minute. The two of you quickly decorate the windows, set your pumpkins in front of the doors, and prepare for the trick-or-treaters.

Ben glares at his pumpkin as he sets it down in front of the door, remembering how miserable he was the night before with hives up to his elbows, half drunk because of all of the allergy medicine you forced him to take.

He casually rubs his arm, as if just looking at the pumpkin makes him itchy. You carved yours into a classic Jack O Lantern, something quick and easy. Ben somewhat just stabbed his and cut out chunks. It looks like Jason Vorhees took his machete to it but you take a picture anyways. It's his first pumpkin.

After the decorations are set up and the candy is ready to be handed out, you turn on some typical haunted house music, and stand by the doors with him.

You asked Ben whether he'd prefer to get dressed for the party at home, before going to the store, or if he'd prefer getting dressed at the store and leaving from there. He chose the latter.

Dressed in a pair of tight fitting jeans and a black V-neck shirt, he stands by the door, doing his best not to look too eager about handing out candy.

"The big candies are for the children with the superior costumes right?" he asks, glancing at the bowl sitting on a shelf behind him, out of sight.

"That's what I do but it's up to you. I give the kids with unique costumes the bigger candy. It takes a bit of work to make your own costume. Most people are lazy and go the store bought route."

"We bought ours at a store," he frowns.

"Yes, but it's your first Halloween and you're not used to everything. Next year we can make our own costumes. Then every year after that the rule will be only handmade costumes, no store bought ones. It can be another tradition!" you smile.

His throat feels tight again and he swallows hard.

_ "Every year after that." _

_ "Another tradition!" _

The look he's giving you, you can't quite place, but you've seen it before.

"What?"

"Nothing sweetheart," he smirks.

The sun starts to set and the kids start wandering the streets in small groups.

Ben's eyes light up as a little girl makes her way towards him.

The moment he crouches down with the bowl of candy in his hands, you know he's done for.

The little girl (who you assume is around five years old), smiles at him like he hung the stars. You glance around and don't see any adults with her, which is strange. Further up the sidewalk an older teenage boy waves at you and mouths "my sister" then gestures towards her. You nod and stand behind Ben.

"Trick or Treat!" the little girl says eagerly, holding out her bag for Ben.

"Hello, princess," he says with a smile. The little girl's Elsa dress is frayed and dirty at the edges, and her wig is a bit frazzled and out of place, but she doesn't care.

"I'm not a princess! I'm Queen Elsa," she huffs, closes her eyes, and lifts her small chin, insulted.

"My apologies, your majesty," he bows his head, and waits.

The little girl peeks an eye open and smiles when she sees the huge man crouched and bowing to her.

"It's okay!" she says happily.

He starts turning to grab the bowl of big candy but you beat him to it. You shove it into his hand, knowing this is how the night is going to go.

The little girl's eyes light up when she sees him toss a full size candy bar into her bag.

"Thank you!" she squeals and throws her arms around Ben's neck.

He freezes, not expecting a hug from the little queen. Thankfully, the older brother sees his sister throw herself at a stranger, who looks extremely uncomfortable, and pulls her off of him.

"Sorry about that," he says, embarrassed.

"It's okay," you chuckle, tossing him his own candy.

"Happy Halloween," he smiles.

"Bye peasant!" the little girl calls out to Ben.

He waves and stands once she's down the street.

"You're so screwed."

"What?" he asks, turning to face you fully.

"That was one kid and you were ready to dump all of the candy we bought into her bag."

"It's a crime punishable by death to upset a princess," he scoffs, acting as if he's offended.

You snort. "She wasn't a princess, she was a queen."

"Maybe, but not mine, I already have a queen," he smirks, leaning down to you. He presses his lips against yours for a fraction of a second before you hear another round of "Trick or Treat."

* * *

Thankfully, no more little princesses or queens show up, otherwise you'd have run out of candy within minutes. Ben was extremely pleased with himself whenever he recognized a costume and when he didn't, you were asked for details and so was Siri.

It's close to 9pm when the trick-or-treaters taper off before disappearing all together.

It's costume time and you're equally excited and nervous about seeing what he picked out. If it's something dumb you can't tell him without hurting his feelings, but you also can't let him show up to Poe's of all places in something that will get him laughed at.

You go into the women's bathroom to change while he runs to grab something out of the car before changing himself.

Once your shirt is buttoned, your tie is straight, your skirt is flat, and your wand is secured inside the left pocket of the robe, you exit the bathroom. Ben is still shuffling around in the men's room. While you're waiting, you make sure the front doors are locked, and the lights in the front are off, before walking to the back office.

You hear the men's bathroom door open and are about to turn around but stop when Ben cages you in against the desk. Giggling, you turn around until your back is pressed against the edge.

Your eyes widen slightly, not expecting his costume of choice.

A black mask rests on his face, intensifying the honey color of his eyes. On his head is a black bandana that ties in the back, right above where he's managed to gather a majority of his thick, black, hair into a small ponytail.

Around his waist is a black belt, cinching in the black long sleeved shirt that laces closed but is hanging half way open. The ends of the billowy sleeves are tucked into black leather gloves that send a familiar tingle down your spine as you remember the last time you saw him in gloves.

The shirt stops at his upper thigh and covers the blessedly tight black pants he's wearing which are tucked into black pirate style boots. On his hip, attached to the belt, is a scabbard, and in the scabbard is a sword.

There is no way in hell he bought all of that when you took him shopping. You definitely would have noticed a sword.

At first glance your immediate thought is "pirate," more like "hot pirate," but once you see his hair you know he has a specific look in mind.

When you don't respond right away the anxiety is faintly visible in his eyes. Instead of realizing the look on your face is appreciative and horny, he mistakes it for the opposite.

"I—"

You grab him by the neck and pull him down towards you, pressing your lips against his roughly. His hands linger at your sides momentarily, giving his brain a second to catch up.

When he realizes what's going on, his hands fly to your hips and lift you onto the desk. He spreads your legs and stands in between them, pressing even closer to you than before. His hands trail down your thighs and pause. He breaks the kiss, panting, and stares down at you. His gaze travels from your knees to all the way up until his eyes meet yours.

"Holy shit," he pants.

You have to bite your lip not to laugh. Hearing him curse is still hilarious considering he regularly uses kriff still.

"You're wearing a skirt," he says quietly, trailing his hands up your thighs.

When he realizes the gloves he's wearing are preventing him from touching your skin, he frowns and rips them off with his teeth, throwing them on the desk behind you. In no time at all, his hands are back on your thighs, inching closer and closer to where you want them. He lifts your skirt until it's bunched around your waist.

Your breath hitches when he lightly runs his knuckles against your already wet panties.

"So wet for me already," he whispers, leaning in and kissing along your neck.

"Always," you breathe, as he places kisses along your neck.

"Only for me," he whispers aggressively.

When you don't immediately agree, he combs his fingers through your hair and grips it roughly, bringing your face close to his. You moan and arch your back, pressing your chest against him. He slowly moves your panties to the side, exposing you to his wandering and slightly desperate fingers.

"Say it," he whispers.

"Only you," you pant.

Teasing you, he circles your clit with his thumb, but doesn't touch it directly.

"Ben, please," you beg.

"Please, what sweetheart?" he asks, trailing kisses from your lips to your jaw, and then back again.

You reach forward and cup his impressively hard erection through his tight pants. He gasps and bucks into your hand. When you try to stroke him he brushes your hand away and quickly tries to undress.

The fake sword loudly falls to the ground when he removes his belt. Once his belt is off, he reaches under his long shirt, and unzips his pants. He sees you watching him impatiently and stares at you heatedly. His eyes are nearly dilated with need as he stares at your spread legs, not moving an inch from where he left you.

"Take those off before I rip them off," he says, gesturing towards your panties. He lowers his pants and boxer briefs enough to free his cock from it's constraints.

"As you wish," you smirk.

He grabs the base of his cock and starts lazily pumping it, impatiently waiting for you to remove your panties. You wiggle as you try to pull them down but it's not as easy as you'd thought it would be. You're sitting on half of your skirt which means you can only lift your hips an inch or two off of the desk.

Apparently you're moving too slow for him because he closes the space between you, rips your panties off, and plunges into you without warning.

"Fuck! Ben," you moan.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck and thrusts into you as if his life depends on it.

"Kriff," he grunts against your neck.

When he feels your walls start to quiver around him, he changes his angle slightly, aiming directly for your g-spot.

Your back arches and your thighs grip him as you dissolve into pleasure.

Not wanting to alert your fellow business owners to your activities, he quickly covers his mouth with yours to not only mask the noise you're making, but the one he knows he will also be making.

The way your pussy spasms around his cock is too much and he comes immediately after you do. He moans into your mouth as his hips continue to thrust, slower and uneven in their movements.

He rests his head on your shoulder, trying to catch his breath, as his hips come to a stop.

"I like this costume," he pants, rolling the end of your skirt between his fingers.

"Yeah I can tell," you giggle. "Where did you get yours? I know for a fact we did not buy all of this at the costume store.'

Even with his mask you can see his cheeks redden.

"I...well I told my mother I was going to dress as Westley from the Princess Bride. Well, the Dread Pirate Roberts to be exact, but the costume was only the shirt. She told me not to worry about it. The rest was shipped to the apartment yesterday. I managed to intercept it while you were in the shower," he smirks.

"Damn. I'm going to have to send Leia a 'Thank You' card for making my Princess Bride roleplay dreams come true."

He chuckles, wincing as he slowly pulls out of you. He places both hands on your hips and lifts you off of the desk, setting you back on to the floor. He picks up his belt while you go to the bathroom to clean up. When you return his belt is in place and so are his gloves.

He seems less hesitant about the party all of a sudden. It's either the sex or the reassurance that his costume looks good, maybe a combination of both.

"Are you ready?" he asks, a hint of excitement in his tone.

* * *

The music from Poe's duplex is loud enough to be heard down the street. You're suddenly anxious for Ben, thinking he's going to be uncomfortable. When you glance over at him he looks perfectly fine, fingers interlaced with yours, staring towards the steps to the building.

"What?" he asks, after catching you staring.

"Nothing," you smile.

The two of you walk up the steps and are about to open the door when it roughly swings open.

Poe opens the door in a black corset, thigh high fishnet stockings, a black curly wig, and impressively tall heels. Your jaw drops as you openly gawk at him. Ben's deep, loud, laughter snaps you out of your shocked state.

You quickly close your mouth and turn your attention to him, praying he's not going to say something unintentionally rude.

"How do I take a photo? I need to send one to my mother—"

Ben pauses and tries to pull his phone out of his back pocket.

Thinking he's making fun of Poe without realizing it, you're slightly mortified.

"—she loves Frank N' Furter." he adds, still chuckling.

You turn your head towards Ben so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash.

"You know who Frank n' Furter is? When the hell did you watch the Rocky Horror Picture Show?"

"One of the times my mother stayed with me while you were at the bookstore. She said it's one of her favorite movies. When she realized I didn't remember what it was she made me watch it," he shrugs, turning his attention to Poe.

"Sweet Transvestite from Transexual Translyvania...right?" he asks hesitantly, unsure if he's remembering the line correctly.

"What the hell? You know the lines? What universe am I in?"

"It was an interesting movie," he shrugs.

"You don't by chance happen to have six fingers on your right hand?" Poe asks Ben, quoting the Princess Bride.

His eyes light up, happy someone recognizes his costume and not to make fun of it.

"Nice, Solo. I didn't think she'd be able to talk you into dressing up and if she did, I thought for sure you would have come as something lame like a vampire," Poe chuckles.

Ben looks away from Poe suddenly, which probably means his other costume choice was a vampire.

"Poe, what's taking you so long?" a man approaching Poe from behind asks.

You can tell it's Finn before he fully turns in your direction, even with the Captain America mask covering the top portion of his face.

He smiles at you, then at Ben. "You must be Solo and—"

"Finn," you whisper.

You should have known you'd eventually run into him. Everyone else you had met previously is now in your life or in Ben's. It was just a matter of time, still, you hadn't expected to see him.

"Have we met before?" he asks, confused.

Ben glances down at you and gives your hand a squeeze when he sees your eyes are watery.

"Um no...but Poe's mentioned you before," you lie, hoping they'll believe you.

"Oh he has?" Finn asks Poe teasingly, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek.

You can feel Ben's surprise. With everything that happened back in his timeline, you forgot to mention the fact that they were together. His lips part with surprise but he quickly closes them, averting his eyes.

"Come on in guys," Finn says, pushing Poe aside to make room for both of you.

Once you're clear of the door, Finn closes it and walks ahead of you.

"That's America's ass," Ben chuckles, gesturing to Finn.

You pause and slowly turn your head towards him.

"What?" he glances between the three of you.

"I understood that reference and you're goddamn right it is," Poe says loudly, slapping Finn in the ass for emphasis.

Finn jumps and smacks Poe's hand away as he laughs and continues walking into the other room.

"Were they together in my timeline? When were you going to tell me?" he hisses under his breath.

"I'm sorry, I was a little busy saving the galaxy," you hiss back.

The moment you're in the kitchen, Poe starts handing you alcohol, which you pass to Ben, thinking he'd decline.

You're pleasantly surprised when he doesn't.

"What is this?" he asks, titling the little shot glass back and forth.

"You've never had a jello shot?" Finn asks, incredulously.

"I...I don't think so," Ben frowns.

"Oh, right, you have some memory loss right?"

Poe gives him a look that clearly says "don't bring it up."

"That just means he gets to experience everything for the first time," you smile up at Ben.

He smirks and nods.

"Are you going to have one?" he asks, offering you his shot.

"Nope, I'm driving."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Ben asks, confused.

"Don't worry about it."

You and Poe smile at each other as Ben tips the small plastic cup back and slurps the jello out of it.

Both of you wait to see if he makes a face to indicate whether or not he likes it.

He brings the empty plastic cup to his face and stares at the bottom.

"Can I have another one? What's in this jello?"

You cover your mouth to hold back a laugh.

"Vodka,  _ a lot _ of vodka," Poe smiles mischievously, handing Ben two more.

"Is that alcohol?"

Finn glances between you and Poe, wondering if he legitimately has no idea what vodka is. You shake your head slightly and he takes the hint.

"Yes, strong alcohol."

"Strong?" Ben scoffs. "It can't be stronger than Corellian whiskey. I could eat ten of these and not feel a thing."

"Really?" Poe asks, smirking.

You and Finn both know what Poe's about to say and you both know how Ben is going to respond.

"I bet I could drink you under the table, Solo."

"Why would I drink under a table?" he asks, confused.

"It's just a saying. What he means is you'll pass out before he does."

Ben narrows his eyes at Poe. "You're on Dameron."

"Shit," you and Finn mumble simultaneously.

* * *

Thirty minutes later and your personal Westley is maskless and swordless. His hair is loose and resting on his shoulders like usual. The hair tie he stole from you is lost amongst the empty shot glasses that litter the countertop.

You leave him alone for approximately two minutes, the time it takes you to walk to the bathroom and back, and when you re-enter the kitchen two girls are trying their hardest to get  his attention.

Leaning against the doorframe, you watch as Ben drunkenly misses all of the not so subtle attempts at flirting the girls are doing.

"What's your name handsome?" a petite blonde girl asks.

Ben frowns down at her, realizing she's not you. You're the only one that's ever called him handsome.

"It's Westly," Ben responds, concentrating extremely hard on not slurring.

"I like that name," the girl smirks and rests her hand against his chest.

"I thought I heard Poe say your name is Ben?" the other girl asks, confused.

"It is," he smiles.

He runs his hands over his face and blinks hard before glancing around the room, looking for you. When he looks down and realizes the hand on his chest does not belong to you, he  frowns and pushes it away from him.

"No thank you," he says politely, frowning.

The girl pouts.

"What's wrong? Is it the girl you came here with? You didn't seem too interested in her," she giggles.

Ben snorts. "You're an idiot."

"What?" she asks, offended.

"You don't know what you're talking about. She's my soulmate. She died for me, well, we died together. But then we—"

"Okay, that's enough alcohol for you big guy," you quickly interrupt before Ben doesn't just look drunk, but insane as well.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" he slurs, swaying slightly as he tries to wrap his arms around you. "I was just telling them they're stupid for thinking I don't love you."

He leans down to kiss you on the forehead but lingers a bit too long. He sways a little more and puts a lot of weight on your head.

"Ben?"

Silence.

"Ben! You're squishing me."

He jerks and stands straight up, reaching for the edge of the counter and clinging to it for dear life.

"I think it's time to go home," you chuckle.

The girls take the hint and walk out of the kitchen, disappearing into the living room.

"He's trashed," Finn chuckles, approaching you from behind.

"Definitely. Where's Poe?"

"Dr. Furter is passed out in the backyard. Technically Ben out drank him."

"Kriff yeah I did!" Ben laughs. "He has to crawl under the table now."

"Want help getting him in the car?" Finn smiles.

"I don't need help. I can walk just fine on my own," he glares.

Ben places his hands on your hips, pulls your back against his chest, and leans down, burying his face into your neck.

"Mmmm," he purrs, hands slowly starting to roam.

"Help would be appreciated," you laugh, freezing his hands by placing yours over them.

After a bit of wiggling you manage to get out of Ben's hold and pull him towards the door. One step forward and he almost falls face first onto the ground.

"Ugh," he groans. He grabs you to steady himself which doesn't help considering you're half his size. Thankfully, Finn grabs him by the arm before he falls and throws it over his shoulder, grounding him.

"I apologize FN21— Finn. It seems I do require your assistance after all."

"No problem, Solo."

Finn helps you get Ben into your car, straps him in, and closes the door. You exchange phone numbers, fully intending to make him your best friend again, and part ways.

You get into the driver's seat, buckle your seatbelt, and look to your right, expecting Ben to be passed out.

He's staring at you and smirking.

"What?"

"I want to fuck you while you wear that skirt again. I like that skirt," he says, matter of factly.

You cock an eyebrow and stare at the once shy man who is steadily getting bolder when it comes to dirty talk.

"And I'll let you, but not tonight. Tonight you're going to drink a ton of water and go to sleep because tomorrow you're going to feel like crap."

You do your best not to wince when he lifts his hand and roughly runs his fingers through your hair.

"I'm glad you didn't die. I'm glad  _ we  _ didn't die."

You snort. "Yeah I'm glad we didn't die too."

"It would have been okay if we did though," he says quietly, suddenly sobering up a little.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because death cannot stop true love, it can only delay it for a while," he says quietly, combing his fingers through your hair, a little softer this time, and pulls you closer to him.

"Let's go home you nerd," you smile.

His breath fans across your lips, reeking of vodka and fireball.

"As you wish," he smiles and presses his lips against yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Siri's answers to Ben's questions about Halloween and the man in the canoe are legit. I asked her both questions and wrote down what she said. 
> 
> The canoe explanation had me in tears.
> 
> Not gonna lie, I wasn't too confident with this and I was going to delete it and start over. But my friend [Ginger Solo](https://twitter.com/Lil_Red_Hed) read it and said she adored it so I kept it.
> 
> I'll try and add to this every so often. Definitely for Thanksgiving and Christmas.
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos fuel me and I appreciate you all.
> 
> Happy Halloween!


	2. Tis the Season

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No smut
> 
> Literally just tooth-rotting fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I busted my ass to get this written by Christmas and I don't have a beta so I apologize in advance for the errors I inevitably made.

For some reason, the bookstore had an uptick in customers. Yes, it was December, which meant a lot of people were shopping for presents. It would be expected for a business to pick up if the World Between Worlds were a traditional bookstore. While yes, it did carry books like the Iliad and Harry Potter (the latter due to your persistent whining), a majority of the literature was obscure and flat out weird.

The unique bookstore did well enough to provide a steady income for a comfortable living, but it didn’t generate enough to put itself on the map. A majority of the customers were just as weird as Obi-Wan and lived in the area. So when there was suddenly a line of customers eager to purchase books like “How To Talk to Your Cat About Gun Safety” and “How to Disappear Completely and Never Be Found,” you were shocked.

Even if it was welcome, you weren’t prepared for it. It was always just you and Obi-Wan, never any other employees. For this reason, you had been spending an unusual amount of time away from home. This wouldn’t be an issue if Ben, your 6’3 personal space prince, were used to being alone. You had no problem with his neediness, even after months of being in your world. It was understandable, and if you were honest, you enjoyed it. You enjoyed feeling needed and wanted.

Unbeknownst to him, you tasked Han and Leia with babysitting duties. They purchased a house outside of the city, closer than before but far enough that you guys could escape the busy city noise whenever you needed to. Their new residence meant whenever Han was bored, he’d accost Ben for the day. Ben would pretend to be irritated, but it was painfully obvious how much he cherished his time with his father. Leia didn’t have as much free time, but when she did, Ben was usually, for all intents and purposes, kidnapped for the day. 

The first week of December, you decided to find someone to help you at the store, at least until the holidays were over. It was Ben’s first Christmas, and things were likely to be hectic. Not just because of the million questions you were going to have to answer, but because you were going to be with family. You were overwhelmed and needed help.

Thank god for Poe Dameron.

That is something you _never_ thought you’d say.

Well, thank god for Finn is more accurate. 

The two strolled into the store one day with a coffee in hand and watched as you struggled to help customers find books while also ring them up. Finn, always helpful regardless of what timeline, quickly hopped behind the counter, asked for a quick explanation on how to use the register, and started ringing people up while you answered questions. 

When the line was down to two people, you lamented about how stressed you were. Poe then reminded Finn that he was looking for a part-time job while he was in school. You hired Finn almost instantly. Within a few days, you had your first employee. A week later, you had two. Finn’s friend Rose also needed a job. Trusting them to find another person to help until after Christmas, you left the store in their hands. For the rest of the month, you had more time for Ben and the list of questions he probably already has written down.

* * *

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t dreading the moment stores started decorating for Christmas. It meant a lot of huffing and glares whenever you couldn’t explain something adequately and defaulted to “ask Siri” as a response. 

Of course, Ben didn’t disappoint.

* * *

“Why is everything suddenly red and green? And why is there a bearded man on everything?” Ben asks as he approaches (and towers over) a life-size Santa statue with a large plastic “step here” button on the base by the feet.

You barely suppress a smile knowing what his reaction will be once the dancing Santa starts playing a loud and overly obnoxious song. As expected, perpetually curious, Ben steps on the button and nearly jumps a foot off the ground, startled, when Santa starts swaying his hips while nearly screaming "Santa Claus is Coming to Town." 

He steps back, brings his hand to his chest as if trying to slow his rapid heartbeat, and quickly turns to you silently asking you to make it stop.

“Step on the button again,” you say while laughing.

“What? No! Why would I do that when that’s what woke it up in the first place.”

“Suit yourself. We'll just have to wait this out then,” you shrug. Ben glances around and notices fellow shoppers are staring. He quickly turns to hide his reddening cheeks and looks at you to determine whether or not you’re actually trying to end his suffering. It wouldn’t be the first time you've tricked him.

Cautiously, Ben presses the button with his foot and sighs with relief when Santa stops moving and singing.

“What the hell was that? What is this thing?” He hesitantly approaches Santa and eyes him up and down, looking down at his feet to ensure his foot is nowhere near the “try me” button.

“It’s a Christmas decoration. It’s mechanical. It—“

“So it’s essentially a droid?” Ben asks, lifting the cheap-looking beard as if checking for wires and circuits.

“Um… not exactly. It doesn’t have a purpose like droids. What you just saw is literally all it can do.”

“That’s it? What’s the point of it?”

“To entertain people I guess?”

“That’s what people consider entertainment? That was horrid.” He releases the beard and steps away from it, coming to your side. 

It’s then he notices the wall of different Christmas lights, the fake Christmas trees, and the numerous inflatables on display. 

“What...what aisle are we in?” he asks. 

He walks away from you, down the aisle, and looks for the seasonal sign. When he sees it, his brow furrows and he crosses his arms over his chest.

You’re in the random ornament aisle when a specific one catches your eye. Knowing how big of a sap he is, while he’s distracted, you grab the “Our First Christmas” ornament. You quickly place it in the cart towards the bottom so he won’t notice. 

“This is for another holiday, isn’t it? A more obnoxious one from what I see.”

"Yes, it’s another holiday. I think you’ll like this one. There aren't any...what did you call trick or treaters? Oh! Children wandering around aimlessly begging for food.”

“What is the purpose of this holiday?” he asks while staring up at the light display.

“It’s...there’s a lot to explain but I’ll do my best once we’re home. But to simplify it, this one is more about family.”

“Family,” he mumbles. His eyes finally leave the lights as he turns his attention from the holiday decor to you and smiles.

* * *

“A tree?” Ben asks, skeptically. 

He grabs your hoodie off the coat rack and holds it out to you to slide into. Once it’s on, he zips it up, grabs your jacket, and holds it out for you to put over your hoodie. You stare at him questionably as he bundles you up, ensuring you’re dressed warm enough before you brave the cold weather. He takes a step back, gives you a once over, and nods, satisfied with how well you’re bundled. You roll your eyes and grab his scarf off the coat rack. He knows the routine and leans down so you can throw the it around his neck. 

“Yes, a Christmas tree.” 

You wrap the scarf around his neck two times then lean over and grab his beanie. He leans over once more and lets you pull it down over his hair. He pretends to be put out by your coddling but it’s obvious he enjoys it.

“It’s another pagan tradition, isn’t it? I read about it but couldn’t find a clear answer. Some googles say it’s a pagan tradition and others say it’s origins stem from a different religion. I—“

You're biting your lip so hard you’re sure it may bleed in an attempt not to laugh.

“What? What did I say now?” He huffs and averts his eyes.

“Nothing, nothing. Anyways, what did the googles say?”

He narrows his eyes at you suspiciously but continues to educate you on the history of the Christmas tree tradition. All the way out of your apartment, down the stairs, and out onto the sidewalk.

“Christianity—“

“Ben.”

“What?” he asks, stopping mid-sentence.

He turns his head towards you slightly. The tip of his nose is bright red from the cold. Inconveniencing the other people braving the cold and walking down the street, you cup his face with your glove covered hands and bring his head closer to you. You rub your cold nose over his. He sighs then smiles and you can't help but bring your lips to his. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you against him to deepen the kiss.

“Nope, none of that until we get home,” you chuckle, kiss him once more, then pull away from him.

You interlace your fingers with his and drag him to the Christmas tree lot.

When the lot comes into view, his lips part and you know for certain he’s going to pick up right where he left off and continue to educate you on the entire damn history of the Christmas tree decorating tradition.

“Decorating a Christmas tree may have originated from a religious practice but a lot of people don’t do it for that reason. It’s just...something people do for Christmas.”

“For no reason...like Halloween,” he says more to himself than to you.

“Yes, like Halloween, except with presents.”

“Presents?” he abruptly stops walking, nearly yanking you backward in the process. You realize what you’ve said and mentally kick yourself for it.

It takes very little to make Ben anxious. He’s a perfectionist and a neat freak. He constantly wants to get everything right, make everything perfect. You knew he would stress about gifts, wanting to ensure everyone gets the perfect gift, you particularly. You have been trying to figure out a way to explain that particular Christmas tradition but hadn’t come up with anything yet. 

Sighing, you take a step forward and tug on his arm roughly. Taking the hint, he starts walking again. You glance at him and see he’s staring at you intensely.

“So on Christmas, you get your friends and family gifts. You wrap them in pretty paper and you place them under the decorated Christmas tree. On Christmas morning you gather around the tree with your loved ones and open gifts together.”

The tree lot is just across the street. As soon as you get there you’ll be able to distract him by giving him the task of picking out the perfect tree. If only he’d walk just a bit faster.

“Gifts...for friends and family,” he repeats. 

“Yes.”

“I need to get my mother and father gifts by Christmas then.”

“Yes, and we should probably get Finn and Poe something.”

“Dameron too?”

You nod once as you finally walk into the Christmas tree lot which is a lot busier than you anticipated. Ben is quiet which never bodes well. You can practically hear the gears turning in his head.

“Oooh look how nice this one is!” you shout over dramatically just to see if he's paying attention to you.

He's not.

Sighing, you grab his face again and pull him down towards you until you’re nearly eye to eye.

“You’re ignoring me. I’m cold and we walked here and it’s cold and you’re ignoring me.”

He averts his eyes, slightly ashamed at being caught. “I’m not ignoring you,” he mumbles.

“Ben...look at the tree I just got excited over. I almost yelled. People started to stare at us and you didn’t even blush.”

He swallows hard and covers your hands with his.

“I didn’t tell you about the gift thing because I know you’re going to stress out about it. You’re going to want to get everyone the perfect gift and you’re going to worry that whatever you pick isn’t good enough. We can talk about presents when we get home. Help me find a tree, we’ll go home, I’ll make us hot chocolate, and we can watch a Christmas movie...or make Christmas cookies. I haven’t decided—”

“Cookies? What kind of cookies?” he perks up slightly. You have to bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing at how quickly his mood changed over baked goods.

“Christmas cookies!” you smile.

“There is a special kind of cookie for Christmas?” he asks with a hint of curiosity.

“Tree first. Cookies after. Come on.”

You grab his hand again and drag him down the first row of trees.

“What are we looking for exactly? All of these trees...well they’re just trees,” he says, scanning the rows.

“We want a tree that looks...nice. Not too thin but not too wide. We have to find one that will fit into the apartment. Some of these are crooked. Some are missing a bunch of branches. See,” you stop in front of a tree that definitely has seen better days and shake one of the nearly bare branches.

He stares at the tree as if studying it before nodding once and walking away. 

Ben walks down the aisles of trees, pausing at each one and analyzing it like he would an enemy. Oddly enough, you find a tree that doesn’t fit any of the criteria you described. Half of it is green and lush. The other half is sparse, has missing branches, and slightly crooked. You watch all of the other tree buyers walk past it without a second glance as if it’s invisible. It’s dumb, you know it’s dumb, but you kind of feel bad for the neglected tree. 

“Alright, I found three that I think fit your criteria precisely. I’m not sure whether or not I’m supposed to make the final decision but I’d prefer to have your input before we decide.”

He sees you staring at the lone tree in the corner and approaches it. He knows you just as well as you know him. You’ll be leaving with the abandoned tree that no one wants because that’s the kind of person you are. Taking in the rejects, the neglected, the abandoned, and bringing them in to make them your own.

He frowns when he realizes he’s lamenting about a partially dying tree.

“You want this one don’t you?” he asks, barely hiding his amusement.

“Kinda. Look around at all of these people. It might as well not be here. No one wants it. It’s dumb but I feel bad for it.”

“Sweetheart, we can get whatever you want. This is all new to me. You could have told me to cut down the tree in front of our apartment and I would have done it,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on top of your head.

“Okay, let’s do it.” You turn in his arms and stare up at him. 

He swallows hard and glances down at you, almost nervously.

“What?” you ask as you watch his Adams apple bob.

“What...what if,” he pauses. “What if we make this a tradition? It’s safe to assume this is something that's done annually. What if when we purchase a tree we pick one of the ones no one else seems to want?”

He looks at you like he’s afraid you’re going to laugh at his suggestions when the truth is, you love that idea.

When a smile slowly spreads from ear to ear, he smiles back.

“I love that.”

“Good. I love you.”

He leans down and places a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I know.”

* * *

With the Christmas tree bought and set to be delivered by the end of the day, the two of you quickly walk home to get out of the cold. 

True to your word, the two of you change into comfortable sweats and fuzzy Christmas socks. Ben pretends to hate them but keeps staring down at them and rubbing his feet together when he thinks you’re not paying attention. 

You preheat the oven and grab the package of cookie dough out of the fridge. While you're waiting for the oven, you start making the hot chocolate. Ben sits on the couch and watches you pour hot chocolate into the ridiculously large mug he’s claimed for himself.

The moment you sit down next to him and hand him his mug, he starts asking questions again. You do your best not to sigh as you set your mug down on the small table in front of you. 

“About the Christmas gifts,” he says as casually as possible, doing his best to sound like he hasn’t been stressing out about it for an hour.

“Mmhmm.”

You pick up the television remote and find the movie you’re looking for.

“What are the parameters exactly? Are there restrictions? What exactly is expected of me?”

Once you find the movie you’re looking for, you pick up your mug, tuck your feet underneath you, and angle your body slightly, ensuring you can see his face the entire time you’re conversing. Ben’s facial expressions say more than words ever can.

“There are no rules or restrictions. It’s not about money or the number of gifts you get someone. You can give them something you know they want, something you think they’d like, or something that reminds you of them. You don’t even need to buy anything. You can make someone’s gift too. There are no rules Ben. Technically you’re not even really getting anyone a present.”

“What? Why wouldn’t I? If it’s a tradition then I should be participating too.”

“Because we’re a couple so we give a gift as a couple. We get your mom something from the both of us, and your dad. Everyone gets a gift from us as a whole. But of course, you can always get people something just from you.”

He quietly sips his hot chocolate as How the Grinch Stole Christmas starts.

“When do we do this gift exchange?”

“I still need to talk to Leia to see what kind of traditions they usually do at their house. Everyone’s family is a bit different. Usually, people open gifts on Christmas morning.”

“What about us?” he asks, setting his mug down and resting his hand on your thigh. His eyes slowly roam from you to the TV.

“What about us?” you try to play dumb.

“We get each other individual gifts, correct?”

Internally you sigh.

“Typically yes. As I said, everyone celebrates differently. We don’t have to exchange gifts. I know you don’t—”

“I want to,” he interrupts.

Of course he does. 

“Alright, but only if you promise not to stress out about it. We can go shopping this weekend or you can start shopping online. If you want to get anything online it should be here by Christmas Eve.”

He nods, agreeing to “not stress about it” even though you know damn well he’s going to. 

Turning to the TV fully, he relaxes into the couch, one hand holding his mug, the other hand resting on your thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“What is this movie about? What is that thing? He looks like some sort of genetically mutated Wookiee,” Ben frowns while scrutinizing the Grinch.

“He’s…actually I don’t really know what he is. The Grinch hates Christmas because he doesn't understand the point of it or why everyone else loves it. He tries to ruin it but a little girl shows him the true meaning of the holiday.”

“Why would anyone hate Christmas? From what I’ve learned so far it sounds like a lovely holiday if you exclude the obnoxiously loud and bright decorations. Not to mention the weird tradition of cutting down a tree and placing it in your home. Regardless of how ridiculous all of that is, it’s still better than Halloween.”

You can’t help but smile. 

* * *

Finding the right gifts for everyone was easier than you thought it would be. You don’t know Han and Leia well enough to ensure whatever you’re getting them is something they’d like so you secretly asked Han about Leia, and vice versa. 

To Ben’s dismay, you and Han decided the best gift you could give Leia would be something personal, something involving Ben. You asked Han if she had a favorite picture of just the two of them from when he was little, which of course she did. 

In the photo, Ben is sitting in Han’s old two-seater fighter jet, pretending to pilot it. Han is in the back smiling at how happy Ben is. Apparently, he was babbling about how he was going to fly it when he’s older. You’re not sure who took the picture but it was an adorable close-up of both of them. 

Thanks to a “father-son photo idea” Pinterest search, you found the perfect idea. They would recreate the photo. Thankfully Han still had the jet. There was just one issue, it was small and not meant for someone as big as Ben. 

In the picture, Han was still smiling but not because of how happy Ben was, but because of how funny he looks crammed into the pilot's seat. His knees were bent towards his chest and he was hunched over. You could barely see Han’s face peeking over Ben’s shoulder but his eyes were crinkled in the corners while he laughed at how cramped Ben was. Ben looked pissed in the first few pictures you took but after a few comments from Han that you couldn’t quite hear, he smiled and laughed just as hard as Han. 

When you asked what was so funny he replied “nothing, sweetheart.” His tone suggested they were laughing at your expense, which was fine because you knew exactly how to get him back. 

“Okay then. Let’s take one more then we’re done.”

Ben’s laughter trailed off but his smile remained. 

“Alright, on the count of three say ‘toaster strudel.”

Ben’s lips parted and his cheeks turned a violent shade of crimson within seconds. 

You took as many pictures as physically possible before he glared at you with a murderous look on his face. 

The redness in his cheeks started to fade but not for long. You were biting your bottom lip in an attempt to keep from laughing but you failed when you faintly heard Han say, “Toaster strudel? That’s something sexual, isn’t it? I don’t want to know but I think I have a pretty good idea.”

Ben groaned loudly and covered his face with his hands. “Why?!” He yelled. 

The loud laugh that you can no longer hold back can only be described as a cackle as you hunch over and grab your stomach. Just when you think you’re done laughing, you would glance up at Ben and see his crimson cheeks and death glare. It sent you into a new round of hysterics. 

Han’s gift was again, Ben related. It was essentially a father-son trip. After checking multiple times with Ben to ensure he’d be comfortable spending the weekend with his dad without you to bail him out of any conversation he would normally have trouble answering on his own, he agreed. The details weren’t clear. Leia offered to handle it all which made you both feel like it wasn’t actually a gift from you but Leia insisted Ben agreeing to spend the time with his father was the actual gift. Ben felt guilty for how he treated Han for a few days after that conversation. After multiple discussions, which entailed you vehemently saying how what the other him did to his parents was in no way his fault, he agreed to let the past die and focus on the future. 

Finn and Poe were easy to buy presents for. A few days at one of the resorts just outside of the city, including spa packages, was exactly something Poe would freak out over. Finn would be happy over literally anything. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


"Who exactly is Santa Claus? Why is he an important part of Christmas?"

“Santa Claus well...to learn the actual history and origin I think you should google it because honestly, my knowledge on good ol’ Saint Nick isn’t extensive. Basically, it’s a myth for kids. It’s something parents tell them to get them to behave. Santa watches you and if you behave, you get gifts for Christmas. If you’re bad, you get coal in your stocking. He lives at the North Pole and spends all year preparing for Christmas with the help of his elves. He has a naughty and nice list which he checks before Christmas. On Christmas Eve he flies around the world in his sleigh and delivers presents to everyone in the world. He stops at every house, climbs down the chimney, and leaves presents under the tree.”

Ben stays quiet while he makes himself a cup of coffee.

As if on cue, “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town” starts playing during a Christmas commercial, filling the silence as he stands still, brows furrowed, concentrating on the words to the song. His sweats are hanging low on his hips and his tight white shirt clings to his chest. It’s hard not to spend all day just staring at him.

_"He sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you’re awake. He knows if you’ve been bad or good so be good for goodness sake. You better watch out. You better not cry. You better not pout I’m telling you why. Santa Claus is coming to town."_

“There is so much to unpack here,” Ben finally says.

You snort and rest your head on the back of the couch, knees bent, and feet tucked underneath you.

“Children actually believe that this...this...Santa can visit every single home in one night via a sled pulled by a breed of flying deer? Not only that but he fits down a chimney being as large as he is?”

He looks at you like you yourself personally believe in Santa. 

“You’re really breaking it all down to the basics, but yes, essentially.”

“The idea that an old man you’ve never met watches you every day and every night, even while you’re sleeping doesn’t make anyone uncomfortable?”

“I guess not,” you shrug. 

“How fast can the deer fly?”

“I don’t know Ben. No one has ever stopped and measured since they’re not real.”

He frowns at you,

“Oh, and you leave him milk and cookies. So when he sneaks into your house he has a treat waiting for him.”

“Wait...you’re supposed to feed the man that watches you sleep all year and then breaks into your home?” He brings the hand not holding his coffee to his hip and stares at you, exasperated. 

“Technically, yes.”

After a full minute passes of Ben staring at you with a look of disbelief, he throws his hand in the air and goes back to what he was doing.

“This whole timeline, your life here, has many things that are hard to understand but I will never understand how anyone could believe in something so ridiculous."

You chuckle.

"Additionally, why do all of your holidays involve feeding vagrants?"

* * *

Ben is sitting on the floor with his back to the edge of the couch in front of you. On your knees at the edge of the couch, you sit up as straight as possible and lean over him, staring down at the top of his head with his hair in your hands.

“There’s no way an infant could crawl into the man’s bag and not be noticed until Santa go to the North Pole. There’s no possible way. The child would be moving around inside it, not to mention crying,” Ben says, slightly shaking his head.

“Don’t move! I’ve finally got a rhythm going,” you snap. 

He had explained how significant hairstyles were to the Alderanian people. You’re both not sure how it’s significant to Leia here, but her hair is always braided like the Leia you knew. She taught Ben many of the various braids and their significance while growing up, which he randomly decided to show you. Knowing how much he enjoyed it when you played with his hair, you asked him if you could practice on him. He agreed with more enthusiasm than expected and quickly sat down in front of you. Hoping he’d sit still and give you some time to experiment which his soft locks, you put on Elf and prepared for the questions and comments that would surely come.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I can’t tell whether or not you’re trying to do a specific style,” he says, reaching up to pat the braids on the top of his head. You smacked his hand away before he can reach his hair.

“Ow!”

“I’m not doing a specific braid yet! I’m just practicing. Do you want me to stop?”

“No! I’m just wondering.”

You smirk at how quickly he responds but he turns his attention back to the movie before you can make fun of him for it.

“There is no way someone could walk from the North Pole to New York. It’s physically impossible,” he scoffs as Buddy the Elf walks through Central Park. “That’s here. They filmed this movie here?” He glances over his shoulder and looks at you for confirmation.

“Yeah, they did.”

He laughs harder than expected. You glance up to see Buddy roll off the front of the hood of a cab after it hits him from the side.

“I’m not sure how I feel about being able to relate to the giant man elf.”

He sighs when you run your hands through his hair and leans back into you. He’s oddly quiet during the movie. You’re extremely surprised he didn’t ask a multitude of questions. Maybe it means he’s acclimated to things more than you thought. 

“Sweetheart,” he asks, leaning his head against you and glancing up at you.

“Hmm?”

“I didn’t know the world's best cup of caf was served here in the city. Can we go there?”

Your eyes leave him and glance up at the screen. Buddy sees a sign that says “Worlds Best Cup of Coffee” hanging outside of a random hole in the wall cafe in a shitty part of New York City. Believing everything he reads, Buddy gets excited thinking the sign is literal. Apparently so does Ben.

Smiling, you lean down and kiss him softly. “Of course. Tomorrow we’ll go get a cup of the world's best caf.”

The smile on his face is so innocent and happy, your stomach does a somersault.

* * *

Leia and Han asked that the two of you spend Christmas Eve at their house and understood wanting to spend your first Christmas together alone. When you asked if you guys should bring anything she asked that you both wear ugly Christmas sweaters. 

Dressed in your matching Christmas sweaters, Ben knocks on the front door, one hand on your lower back with the small bag of gifts in the other.

“Do you think anyone will recognize our sweaters? Based on what I’ve seen, these don’t really count as ugly Christmas sweaters. People tend to make them quite ridiculous.” Ben glances down at his sweater than at yours. His maroon sweater has a large, white B in the center. Yours has your first initial in the center as well only your sweater is green. 

“I’m honestly not sure whether or not anyone else aside for us will understand the Harry Potter reference, but we do and that’s all that matters. Besides, Leia is so excited to have you with them, I doubt she’ll really care whether or not our sweaters are considered ‘ugly.’ They’re just happy to have us here,” you smile up at him. He leans over and kisses you on the forehead as the door opens.

Leia is smiling ear to ear, quickly rushing forward, taking the bag out of Ben’s hand, and holding her arms out for a hug. He blushes but leans in and hugs her.

She releases him and holds him at arm's length, looking him up and down, appraising him.

“Oh my goodness. Your sweaters are adorable! When Ben was little he asked me for a ‘Weasley sweater.’ I had no idea what he meant. He was so angry with me for not knowing what he was talking about that when I asked for an explanation he told me to forget it. Let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here,” she shivers and ushers both of you inside her home.

“My mother understands Harry Potter references?”

“She also loves The Rocky Horror Picture Show apparently. Why are you surprised?”

“True.”

“This timelines version of you was a huge nerd too. I’m not going to lie, knowing you read the Harry Potter books when you were younger makes me love you even more.”

He snorts. “Of course it does. The fact that I practically worship the ground you walk on doesn’t mean a thing. But reading a series of books about wizards is how I gain your affection. You never cease to amaze me."

You smile up at him and enter the extremely large kitchen which is occupied by a handful of familiar faces and a handful of new ones. 

“Ben Solo!” Poe shouts from across the kitchen. 

You can feel the irritation rolling off of Ben the moment everyone in the kitchen stops what they’re during and turns their attention towards you. You roll your eyes at Poe who is looking at you smugly. When you glance up at Ben he’s glaring daggers at Poe, which only amuses him more. Finn sighs and elbows Poe in the side.

“Ow! What?” 

“Don’t be a dick on Christmas,” Finn loudly whispers as Poe rubs his side.

You smile and wave at Finn who returns your smile and crosses the kitchen. He pulls you into a tight hug and lifts you off of your feet. 

“Merry Christmas!” 

“Merry Christmas, Finn,’ you chuckle at his enthusiasm.

He holds his hand out for Ben after he sets you down and Ben takes his hand without hesitation. They shake once and nod at each other. Poe is next to approach you and he hugs you just as tightly as Finn does.

“Don’t antagonize him until he’s had something to drink, please,” you whisper into his ear.

“Fine, but only because it’s Christmas,” Poe chuckles.

He sets you down and turns to Ben.

“Solo.”

“Dameron.”

They nod at each other but don’t hug or shake hands.

“You guys are idiots,” you sigh and shake your head.

Han is looking inside the oven, checking on what you think might be a turkey, when he sees you walk over to him. He smiles and opens his arms for a hug.

“Merry Christmas, Han,” you smile at Ben over Han’s shoulder.

He smiles back and reluctantly waits for his turn.

“Merry Christmas, Kid.”

He releases you then turns to Ben. Father and son hug, both patting the other on the back roughly, the way men insist on doing for some unknown reason.

“Do you guys need help with anything?” you ask, looking around at the ungodly amount of food scattered on the large island in the middle of the kitchen.

“We’ve got it covered. Dinner is almost ready.”

* * *

Dinner lasts longer than expected due to everyone conversing amongst each other. Afterward, when everyone is mingling around the family room and the heated patio, numerous people approach Ben, speaking to him as if they knew him personally. Each time, Ben would tense. You’d glance up and watch as his eyes scanned the room, seeking you out as his anxiety climbed. Each time, you’d approach him, interlacing his fingers with yours and squeeze his hand for comfort. You’d change the subject when possible, switching the direction of the conversation, away from Ben. When that didn’t work you’d make an excuse to pull him away. 

Thankfully a majority of the unfamiliar guests left not too long after dinner, leaving Han and Leia, and Finn and Poe. You gathered around the large disgustingly intricate and beautiful Christmas tree and exchanged gifts.

You watch the way Ben's eyes light up with intrigue as he watches everyone exchanging gifts. The look of gratitude on his face whenever someone passes him a present is heartbreaking. He had confessed, late at night, leading up to Christmas, that he couldn’t remember the last time someone had given him something. The look in his eyes makes that painfully clear. It's heartbreaking, yet beautiful at the same time.

Leia was nearly brought to tears when she opened the framed picture of Han and Ben when he was little side by side with the new photo you took of them reenacting the same scenario over twenty years later. Han looks at Ben with disbelief then narrows his eyes at his son when he sees his gift is a weekend trip just the two of them.

“Alright, out with it,” Han says while staring at Ben.

“What? Out with what?” Ben asks, confused.

“What’s the catch? You never want to spend time with your old man.”

“Han!” Leia scolds, elbowing him.

“What? It’s true!”

You glance at Ben and see his cheeks reddening while his eyes are trained on the floor. Han was joking, you know that, everyone knows that. Still, the guilt of how he’s treated Han in his past life and this one rears its ugly head. Ben stares at the floor, brow furrowed while he tries to find a memory he can reference but he draws a blank.

You’re sitting on the couch next to him, his hand is on your thigh and squeezes minutely so you cover his hand with yours and interlace your fingers, squeezing so he knows he’s okay.

“It’s okay mom, dad’s right. I...I can’t really remember everything but I know I’ve been an asshole. I can’t change the past and I don’t blame you for being skeptical...but I’d like to spend more time with you." Ben glances up, his eyes meet Poe’s then Finn’s. It only makes his cheeks redden further. He sighs and stares back at the ground.

“That’s nice to hear, son.” Han smirks then turns his attention to Leia. “Calm down! I just wanted to make sure this was his idea and not something you roped him into.”

Ben finally stops staring at the floor and watches his father affectionately tease his mother.

“That does sound like something you’d do, mom,” Ben smirks.

* * *

Leia has been staring at the two of you throughout the day. You’re not sure for how long because you haven’t been staring back but you’ve made uncomfortable eye contact with her several times from afar. You have no idea what’s on her mind but you know whatever it is it can’t be good. A quiet staring Leia is not a good one. 

Ben is enraptured by a story Han is telling him about the childhood he vaguely remembers. You sit on the armrest to his left. His arm is around your waist, as he stares at his father. A smile ear to ear as Han recalls the time he took him to a botanical garden that had a butterfly enclosure. Ben was very upset the butterflies were trapped in the glass building and proceeded to lock the staff out then open the emergency door to set them free. 

“I’m thinking I win the dad of the year award because the kid is smiling ear to ear, looking around this huge glass enclosure, completely amazed. That lasts for two seconds before the waterworks start. The other people start staring at me because Ben is screaming bloody murder and—“

A small hand rests on your lower back and you know who it belongs to.

“Can I talk speak to you privately?”

Ben tears his eyes away from Han to stare between his mother's hand on your lower back and you, wordlessly asking if everything is okay. You don’t realize your demeanor changes the moment Leia asks to speak with you. 

It’s like being called into the principles office when you haven’t done anything wrong. You immediately think back to every decision you’ve ever made since birth to try and figure out if you could have said or done something to get you in trouble. 

You can’t think of anything. Besides, it’s just Leia. You know how much she loves you. Being worried is silly. 

“Sure!” you say over your shoulder, as nonchalantly as possible.

Leia walks away, down the hall, towards her study. When you hesitate for a moment, Ben gives your thigh a squeeze. 

You glance down at him and he sits up straighter to whisper in your ear.

“What did she say? You’re extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden.”

“She just said she wants to talk to me.

Ben’s brow furrows and he stares at you, confused.

“Why does that have you anxious?”

“She’s been watching us all day like she’s studying us. I know the look on her face. Somethings bothering her and I automatically assume I’ve done something wrong.”

Ben is quiet for a moment, glancing between the hallway Leia disappeared down and Han who is still enthusiastically telling his story.

“I’ll come with you,” Ben says as he tries to stand 

“No, it’s okay. I can tell she wants to speak with me alone. Besides, I think it’s good to listen to these stories. I know they didn’t happen to _you_ but it gives you insight on your past here and how much your parents adore you.”

You cup his cheek and place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’ll be right back.”

He nods and releases his hold on you.

Not wanting to keep Leia waiting, you quickly make your way through the large house and enter Leia’s study, closing the door behind you. 

Leia is sitting in one of the two wingbacked chairs near the large window that gives you a beautiful view of their expansive snow-covered yard. A lit fireplace warms the room at the opposite end. On the small coffee table in between her chair and the chair next to her, is a mug of hot chocolate.

Wordlessly, she gestures to the empty chair and the hot chocolate.

You have no idea why but you know you’re in trouble.

Leia quietly stirs the contents of her own mug with the tiniest spoon you’ve ever seen. She’s quiet way longer than you’re comfortable with and you can’t take it anymore.

You sigh and set your mug down on the table. “Okay, what did I do? Did I say something rude? I know I’m in trouble for something but I honestly don't know what it is and you’re freaking me out.”

Leia’s brow furrows in confusion just like her sons.

“Why do you think you’re in trouble?”

“Because you’ve been staring at us weird since we got here and it’s the creepy silent stare from far away. I know there’s something bothering you and it’s making me nervous.”

Leia chuckles and her face relaxes.

That’s a good sign.

“You’re not in trouble. I know how this conversation would go with my son so I thought I’d speak with you first.”

“About what?” 

She stares down at her mug, silent.

“For the love of god Leia just say it. You’re stressing me out. I promise I can handle whatever it—“

“Ben’s not my son is he?” 

Except that. Nope. You can’t handle that.

You can practically feel the color drain from your face. After a beat too long you finally find the words to speak.

“What—“ you pause and clear your throat when your voice squeaks. “What makes you say that? Of course he’s your son.”

“He's Ben yes. But he’s not the Ben I remember. I know a lot of time has passed and a lot of things have happened but that’s not what I mean. I have a feeling you understand though, don’t you?”

How in the hell can Leia possibly know this? You have no idea how he was before but from what he remembers and from what you’ve heard, his personality isn’t that much different, except a little happier and less depressed.

“I’ve spoken to his doctors. They said he might have a bit of memory loss but small things like riding a bike for the first time, nothing major. I’ve even seen scans. Ben acts like everything is new to him. The iPad, google, cars, certain movies I know he’s seen. have you heard the questions he’s asked, Siri? He asked her what an arcade was the other day.”

You wince. That was on you. You watched Tron and Tron Legacy a few weeks ago. He didn’t ask questions at the time but not long after the movie ended, Leia picked him up while you went to the bookstore. He must have asked after he left. 

“When he was little he wasn’t exactly obsessed with arcade games but that’s not a memory, that’s something he should know.”

She’s right.

It was only a matter of time before someone pointed out Ben's naivety in the real world. 

You’re not sure how to respond. The truth won’t work. There’s no way she’ll believe you. If anything she’ll have you committed. But what should you say? Leia can very obviously see through your lies and excuses and you don't want her to think you’re a liar. What’s worse, her not trusting you, or her thinking you’re crazy?

Resigned, you sigh and slump back into the large comfortable chair. 

“In a way, you’re right. He’s not the Ben you knew but he is Ben. I...if I try and explain everything you will kick me out of your house or have me committed. Probably both. It’s...honestly, it’s completely insane.”

“Try me.”

“No really, Leia.”

You bring your fingers to your head and massage your temples. You’re really going to have to tell her the truth. All you can do is hope she believes you.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you think of the best way to start the story. 

“I’m going to tell you a story. It’s the same story my father told me before he passed away.”

Leia stares at you, analyzing you, trying to determine what angle you’re playing.

“But before I do, I need to know, do you believe in multiverse theory?”

When she’s quiet you turn your head and watch the snowfall steadily over the trees in the backyard.

“I’ve honestly never thought much about it but I don’t completely disregard the possibility.”

Well, that’s better than a straight “no.”

You run your hands over your face and sit a little straighter, resigned to your fate.

“This is a completely made up hypothetical story. Because...um...because I don’t remember the characters names I’m going to use your family's names.”

That sounds like bullshit and you’re sure Leia feels the same but that’s okay. You can tell their story to the best of your abilities before getting to Ben’s. If she doesn’t believe you, you can say it was made-up but hopefully you won’t need to.

Leia nods.

“Alright. It starts in a different timeline in a galaxy far away.”

She stares at you, confused, but says nothing as she sits further into her chair. 

“It starts with Anakin Skywalker and a choice he made and it ends with the last Skywalker, Ben Solo. Are you sure you want to hear it? Because it’s rather unpleasant.”

There’s no going back now. 

She nods.

You sigh. 

Here goes nothing. 

* * *

“Ben...in the story…is hit by a car. Because there’s no concept in time his…life force was brought from his timeline to this one. He retained all of his memories from his last life but the memories here are fuzzy if not gone.”

The silence is suffocating. You contemplate opening the window and jumping into the snow. Maybe you can make a run for it before Ben finds out what you just told his mother.

“Is he free now?” she asks suddenly.

“Huh?” Not only did she catch you off guard but you're genuinely unsure of what she’s asking.

“Now that Snoke is dead…Does he still hear voices?”

Your lips part but no words come out. Does she actually believe you?

“The Ben in the story of course,” Leia adds.

“No, he doesn't hear the voices anymore. He still has nightmares sometimes. The subject usually varies but they tend to be about his life before I fell into it, the voices in his head, and—“ you pause and avert your eyes,” and what happened between him and Han.” 

Leia nods and stirs her drink again.

“Does he reconcile with his uncle?”

You can’t read her. You can’t tell whether or not she genuinely believes you but the fact that she hasn’t called someone to haul you to the mental institution gives you hope.

“Yes, to an extent. The trust was barely there but they were able to be in the same room without Ben trying to kill him. I think they spoke without me knowing and whatever was said caused the two of them to come to some weird truce.”

Leia nods.

“The magic powers the Skywalker’s had...is that something that’s consistent regardless of the timeline?”

Shit. Again, not a question you were expecting.

“I don’t think so. Here it doesn’t seem to be. I managed to freeze a carton of eggs for two seconds before they hit the ground but we haven’t been able to do it since. Ben hasn’t stopped trying though.”

You bring your mug to your lips to sip your now cold cocoa.

“Does ‘kriff’ mean fuck in the other timeline?”

You cover your mouth in an attempt not to spit chocolate onto Leia’s very expensive looking rug. After painfully swallowing you cough roughly, with tears in your eyes, and a hand on your chest.

“What?” you croak.

“Kriff. I’ve heard Ben use that word in place of where most would use a curse word. Although lately, he uses a variety of familiar words in its place.”

Damn. She's more observant than you thought. 

You nod as your coughing slowly subsides. 

“Do...does Han die…do we all die in all the timelines? I don’t mean of old age. Does Ben always end up being the last Solo and the last Skywalker?”

She no longer looks intrigued and curious. The look on Leia’s face is nothing but sadness for her son.

“I don’t think so. Obi-Wan said he’s seen different timelines where Han didn’t die. If that’s the case then I’d have to assume that means the same for both you and Luke.”

“Do we need to kill him?” Leia says out of nowhere.

“I’m sorry...what? Kill who?” you ask completely confused and somewhat shocked at how casually she asked.

“Snoke. I’m not one to condone violence but I’ll make an exception, especially after everything that monster has already done to my son. If his existence is going to damage my family further, well...I’m sure I can find someone to do it for us.”

You stare at her in disbelief. Your mind takes several moments to absorb what Leia is saying. You thought for sure it was impossible to love the woman in front of you more than you already do. 

“As much as I’d like to see that, again, no, we don’t need to kill him. Ben’s not leaving you guys again. Snoke has nothing to threaten him with now. Ben doesn’t care about writing his book like he used to, not saying he won’t go back to it, but right now he doesn’t care. Slandering his name would mean nothing when he’s not trying to advance his career. Honestly, everything we’ve been through… anything Snoke could try here is laughable.”

Ben and his impeccable timing choose to make an appearance before Leia can follow up with any more offers to murder people.

“Is everything okay in here?” Ben asks hesitantly, as he enters the room. 

He glances between both you and Leia before training his eyes on you, silently asking you if everything is okay. You smile and nod.

“Of course, dear. I just wanted to talk to her about a few things I didn’t think you’d be interested in,” Leia shrugs.

“Like what?” Ben asks eyebrow cocked, suspicious.

“Oh you know, when you’re going to get married and give me grandbabies.”

Your head turns towards Leia fast enough to give you whiplash. You have to fight tooth and nail to hide how taken aback you are by that statement. Leia smirks and winks at you. When you glance up at Ben he’s staring at his mother, wide-eyed, and uncomfortable.

“You...you...mom!” Ben groans and covers his face with his hands.

Leia laughs and gets to her feet. “I’m going to go make sure your father isn’t making a fool of himself. She reaches up to Ben, who leans down for her, and kisses him on the cheek. “We’re so happy you’re here, Ben,” she whispers into his ear.

“I’m happy to be here, mom.”

She pats his cheek once, then leaves the two of you alone.

Staring down at the floor, Ben shuffles from one foot to the other, running his hand through his hair, the way he does whenever he’s anxious.

“I’m sorry...we haven’t discussed any of that—”

“Ben—”

“and I really didn’t want you to have that discussion with my mother—”

“Ben—”

“before we discussed it in private. I know—”

“Ben!” you yell, cutting off his anxious mumbling.

His eyes leave the floor and meet yours.

“That’s not what she wanted to talk about,” you smile as you approach him and wrap your arms around his waist.

“It’s not?” he asks.

“No, it’s not.”

He sighs, relieved.

“What did she want to talk about then?” 

“She knows.”

His brow furrows, confused. “She knows what?”

“About you, the World Between Worlds, everything.”

His eyes widen and he releases his hold on you. “What?!” he nearly yells.

“Shh!”

“Don’t shush me! What did she say? Kriff! She’s going to have us both committed. She’s going to—”

“Will you shut up for two seconds? You’re panicking for nothing. She believes me. I thought the same thing at first but she genuinely believes me. She noticed how confused you are by certain things. The doctor said your memory loss should be small and there are certain things you’re just completely unfamiliar with. She noticed and asked me what’s going on. She would have known I was lying. Plus I couldn’t think of anything to say. Once I was done she asked if we needed to kill Snoke.”

His eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly.

“She _what_?”

You chuckle. “Yeah. So I think she genuinely believes me. I know it sounds like that’s a bad thing but I honestly think it’s better. Now when you’re confused by something or don’t remember something, she’ll know why and will be able to help you in case I’m not around.”

“That’s true I suppose. Do you think she’ll tell my dad?”

“No, I don’t. I’m sure she’ll say something to him, that way he also understands why somethings are new to you, but I highly doubt it will be the truth. Han didn’t believe in the Force much in your time so what happened to us would seem absolutely ridiculous here. Your mom knows him better than anyone. If she thinks he’ll understand she’ll tell him.”

Ben nods but stares behind you, out the window, at nothing in particular. Too lost in thought to focus on anything other than everything you’ve just told him.

“You ready to go home yet?”

“Definitely,” he smiles down at you. 

You interlace your fingers with his and walk out of the room, towards the living room. Before you can enter, your eyes meet Poe’s. He glances above your head then at Ben before turning his attention to Han. Glancing up, you see mistletoe hanging from the archway leading in and out of the room. You give Ben’s hand a squeeze and gesture up when he glances down at you.

“What’s that? Why is there a random plant hanging from the doorway? Is this another Christmas thing?”

“Yes. The origin of this tradition is something you’ll have to Google because I have no idea when it started or why, but it’s mistletoe.”

“Mistletoe. What’s the purpose of it?”

“When two people stand under it, they’re supposed to kiss.”

His eyes immediately leave the mistletoe to meet yours. He places both hands on your hips and brings you closer to him until your bodies are pressed against each other. He’s about to lean down when he realizes exactly where he’s at. Glancing around the room, ensuring his parents aren't watching, he leans down and presses his lips to yours. 

The kiss is full of contentment and adoration, not the frantic neediness that usually precedes sex. The way his lips slot against yours signify belonging, how he finally feels like he’s not alone. Adoration for being brought into his life and reuiniting him with his family. Devotion for the aformentioned reason and his willingness to literally go to the ends of the Earth just to prove how much you mean to him. His hand leaves your hip and combs through your hair, holding your head in place, prevneting you from pulling away, even if you wanted to.

A whistle echoes through the quiet chatter, loud enough to cease all side conversation. Ben quickly releases you and stands up straight. 

“Is it my turn next?” Poe smiles.

Ben’s fist clenches at his sides.

“Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?” Finn sighs then stares at you apologetically. 

* * *

The lack of body heat pressed against your back and the smell of coffee wakes you up on Christmas morning. Comfortable, aside from the lack of a 6’3 human furnace pressed against your chest or back, you decide to sleep a little more. The moment you close your eyes you hear an assortment of, what you assume are, curse words in a variety of different alien languages coming from the kitchen. 

Smiling to yourself, you crawl out of bed, put on a pair of leggings and Ben’s hoodie, and quietly exit your room. You stay perfectly still and watch Ben mumble to himself. In nothing but a very low hanging pair of black sweats, he is crouched over his ipad. Both hands are flat on the kitchen counter as he stares down at it.

The kitchen counter is covered in a variety of kitchen utensils, measuring cups, and flour. On the kitchen table is an unnecessarily large amount of food. Pancakes, bacon, toast, fresh fruit, and hashbrowns. A pitcher of orange juice and milk. Butter and syrup. It looks like someone catered your kitchen table.

Your breath hitches and Ben tenses, stands up straight, and abandons his position over the iPad. He turns to face you with a sheepish, almost guilty look on his face.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. There’s no eye crinkle. The smile doesn’t count unless there’s a good amount of dimple and eye crinkle.

“What’s all this?” you gesture towards the kitchen table.

He nervously runs his hand through his hair and stares toward the food.

“I...I wanted to do something nice...since it’s our first Christmas together."

Not wanting to get too emotional the moment you wake up, you do your best to swallow back tears, and close the distance between you. 

“This is beautiful, Ben. It’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” You wrap your arms around him and stand on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“Yeah?” he asks, needing confirmation that he heard you right.

“Yes, I mean it. You have no idea how amazing this is.”

He smiles, and this time, there are eye crinkles and dimples.

“Did I wake you up?” he asks as he gestures for you to sit at the table.

“No, the smell of coffee woke me up. The string of alien curse words you were mumbling was just a bonus.” 

His cheeks redden as he sits down across from you.

“I was going to make omelets but I forgot some of the ingredients.”

You pick a slice of bacon off of the plate full of it and bite off a piece.

“I’m glad you didn’t. Really, look at how much food you made. There’s no way I can eat all of this.”

He reaches over the table grabs your plate and starts serving you. You lean back in your chair, chewing on your individual strip of bacon, and watch your shirtless soulmate fuss over what to put on your plate.

If you were honest with yourself, you’re a little nervous. Ben has dabbled in the kitchen, helping you here and there and asking a bunch of questions, but he’s never fully cooked by himself. Although what he made doesn’t exactly require a recipe, aside from the pancakes, the temperatures and controls of the stove were new to him. Nothing looks burnt and the bacon is delicious. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he did have it catered but made it look like he made it. You know him well enough to know based on his anxious demeanor alone, he did it all himself.

Once he serves you, you pick up the syrup and pour a decent amount on your pancakes. He watches your every move and you know he’s waiting to make sure everything tastes okay. Anxious under his gaze, you quickly cut a piece of pancake and slip it into his mouth. You’re not sure but he looks like he might be holding his breath. Thankfully, you don’t have to lie to him, the pancakes are delicious.

“Holy shit, Ben,” you say the moment you’ve swallowed your food.

“I...I’ve never really cooked before so if they don’t taste good you don’t have to eat them. I—”

“This is delicious,” you interject, stopping his anxious rambling before it even starts.

“Really?” his eyes light up.

“Yes, I promise. This is the best pancake I’ve ever had. Who taught you how to cook?”

His cheeks redden but he tries to hide it by taking a drink of his orange juice.

“My dad taught me. Well...he’s been teaching me. We didn’t really have much to talk about when I’d spend the day with him but he usually made lunch. In an effort to prevent awkward silence I’d ask what he was making and watch him as he cooked. I then told him I was interested in learning so now whenever I go over there he shows me how to make something.”

You felt like the Grinch because you’re pretty sure his statement made your heart grow three sizes with that alone.

“Well, I guess you’re going to have to start cooking for me regularly.”

“R-really?” He was so proud of himself it was so adorable. 

“Yes, really. We both know I suck at cooking. Eventually, we’re going to get sick of ordering out. So you better start practicing with Han as much as possible.”

“Okay,” Ben responds with the biggest smile on his face. 

You ate in relative silence. As soon as you were done you went to the Christmas tree and picked up the two small presents you have for Ben and sit on the couch, patting the cushion next to you. You are excited to see his reaction to his gifts.

Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, he picks up the small, poorly wrapped, box and sits next to you. His knee bounces anxiously.

“Why are you so nervous?”

“I’m not,” he scoffs.

“Bullshit.”

“It’s my first Christmas. Our first time exchanging gifts. I want you to like it,” he mumbles, staring down at the box in his hand.

You placed your finger under his chin and turned his head towards you. 

“There is literally nothing in this world you could get me or make me that I wouldn’t like. I told you it’s the thought that counts.”

He stares back at you, scanning your face for any sign you may just be telling him that to make him feel better but he sees nothing but sincerity. He nods, leans down and kisses you softly.

You pull away, smiling, and hand him his gifts. 

“Okay, you go first.”

He glances down at the two boxes and looks nervous once again.

“You got me two...I only have one for you. I didn’t know—“

“Ben, the second one is more for both of us. The smaller one is your gift. Now stop being anxious and open them.”

He huffs but does as you say. 

The first gift he opens is the ornament you bought for him a few weeks ago. It’s a small picture frame that says “Our First Christmas” with the year at the top. In the center, you put a selfie the two of you took together the first time you took him to Central Park. 

You can’t quite read the expression on his face and now you’re the one that’s anxious. You clear your throat and pick at the hem of your sweater.

“It’s an ornament. They have ornaments for every milestone and I figured this is kind of a—“

Ben cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours. This time it’s not a chaste kiss. This time it’s nearly aggressive with how passionately he’s kissing you. The ornament is still in one hand while his other hand combs through your hair, pulling you even closer to him. His lips fit perfectly against yours as they slightly part to make room for his tongue as he glides it along your bottom lip. You’re not sure whether you should throw the gifts on the ground and straddle him or pull away and continue in the bedroom. He makes the decision for you. 

Breathing heavily, he pulls away but keeps you close using the hand still in your hair, and presses his forehead to yours. 

“I love it. I love you. This is...you have no idea how much this means to me,” he whispers. 

Part of you wants to chuckle at how adorable he is. The other part of you wants to cry for him. Something as small as a picture frame ornament has him so emotional. His other gift is probably going to bring him to tears. God, you adore the huge emotional fridge of a man that’s cradling your face like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

“I love you too,” you whisper and kiss him once more. “You still have one more.”

“Can you open yours first?” He sits back and gestures towards the small box in your lap. 

“Okay,” you smile. You have no idea what it could possibly. Something tells you he didn’t buy whatever it is. It has to be something handmade but you’re not sure what. 

You quickly unwrap the small box and do your best to hide your anxiety. It’s a small box, a ring box. Would he really ask you to marry him? So soon? You _are_ soulmates so it’s inevitable but for some reason, the thought of getting married and a wedding makes you nervous. It’s not something you’ve ever really considered. Of course, you would say yes but you would much rather Ben be completely acclimated and comfortable with his new life before going through with something as big and monumental as a wedding.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” Ben asks, worried. He places his hand on your thigh and gives it a general squeeze, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You blink several times and push down the anxiety the small box in your hand caused. 

“Huh? Oh. Yes, I’m fine! Sorry!”

“Okay,” he stares back at you, unconvinced.

You open the small box and are both surprised and thankful there is no ring. You’re not exactly sure what you’re looking at but it’s beautiful. It looks like a very small terrarium with a flower in the center. When you pick it up you realize there’s a small chain attached. Bringing it closer you can see the flower has small specks of black on it. It looks handmade. Just like you had with him, Ben assumes you’re silence is bad.

“The flower in the middle is made out of paper. I...I hope you’re not mad but I used part of a page from Obi-Wan’s book and part of his letter to make the flowers. I know the book’s a vergence but I doubt one page is going to effect it. The letter...you told me it was the last thing you had of him, besides the book. I know you used to carry it with you…before everything happened. This way you still can...in a way.”

You can feel your eyes well with tears. Not only is it beautiful but it’s the sweetest most thoughtful gift you’ve ever received. You’re trying extremely hard to ignore the irritation you feel knowing he damaged a book. When your eyes leave the small pendant in your hand and meet his, he looks almost appalled when he sees the tears in your eyes.

“Are you...are you crying? I’m sorry. I can try and repair the book. I didn’t mean—“

You throw your arms around him and kiss him hard enough to bruise. He tenses momentarily, his hands at his sides but quickly relaxes into it and holds you. When you pull away he whispers “so are those happy tears?”

“Yes, idiot. It’s beautiful. It’s the best gift anyone has ever given me.”

His eyes light up with pride and happiness. His first Christmas, the first gift he’s ever given, and you love it.

“Put it on me!” You demand, handing him the chain.

He chuckles but does as you say. After its clasped the small glass pendant rests on your chest. You lift it up and stare at it, smiling. 

“Alright, it’s your turn again.” You gesture to the small gift in his lap. 

A bit quicker this time, he unwraps the small box and opens it. You can tell by the look on his face that he’s not exactly sure what it is. He pulls the long chain out of the box and dangles the flat, circular, metal pendant in front of his face before placing it in his palm to study the numbers stamped into the metal.

It’s obvious he has no idea what they mean but he’s afraid to ask out of fear of hurting your feelings. 

“Those numbers are coordinates and a date.”

“Coordinates for what location and what is the significance of the date?”

“The coordinates are the exact spot you, well we, got hit by the cab. The date is the day it happened,” you chuckle. 

To an outsider, memorializing the date you both almost died would seem extremely morbid, but for the two of you, it meant something much more. Ben looks at you as if he knows what it means but wants to hear you say it to confirm it.

“Technically it’s the date and location we first met. Even though we were both unconscious when it happened.”

He stares at you for an uncomfortably long time before turning his attention back to the pendant. Lifting the chain, he puts it over his head and stares down at it once it rests against his still bare chest. This time when he looks at you, he’s the one that looks as if he’s on the verge of tears. 

Placing the pendant metal between both fingers, he runs his thumb over the small indents made when the artist stamped each number into the metal. Without warning, he turns to you, grabs your face, and kisses you. This time instead of pulling away, he leans you back on the couch. 

“You’re amazing,” he says against your lips, pulling away just enough to whisper. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you but I thank the Force every day for it.”

You smile. 

“Merry Christmas, Ben.”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The toaster strudel reference is from the Save Me A Spark epilogue (FYI)
> 
> I struggled with this chapter and to be honest, I'm not too happy with it but it took me a while and I wanted to have it done by Christmas so I didn't have enough time to scrutinize it more than I already have. 
> 
> I'm aware the answers to Ben's questions aren't exactly accurate. I did my best to leave religion out of the holiday for multiple reasons. Mostly because not everyone is religious and I didn't want anyone to feel like they were singled out or excluded by focusing on a specific religion.
> 
> I wasn't planning on making both gifts necklaces but I wanted both gifts to be sentimental. Also, Adam Driver with a necklace on gets me hot and bothered for some reason.
> 
> For a better visual of what I probably failed at describing, this is what Ben's gift looks like
> 
>   
>    
> 


End file.
